


Welcome Back!

by Tra



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Abuse of nicotine patches, BAMF John, Feels, Fluff and Angst, For some reason this is in Avenger's Tower, Half-naked Sherlock, Other, Sherlock Lives, Sherlock knows John like the back of his hand, Tea, The team is all here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tra/pseuds/Tra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Avengers Tower because I'm in the middle of reading a FABULOUS  in which John punches Sherlock once he shows up at the Tower. This is my take on what would happen had that happened.<br/>Essentially, the team stares at Sherlock making tea, Johnlock bicker like, well, long-lost lovers reunited after one of them faked their death and didn't tell the other one, and John jumps Sherlock, but not in the way you're probably hoping.</p><p>Inspiration thanks to the beautiful fic by DullYellowEye called 'In Which Neither Coulson nor Sherlock are Dead (and John sort of joins the Avengers) :D It's beautiful. And it's long :D :D:D:D</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Back!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DullYellowEye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DullYellowEye/gifts).
  * Inspired by [In Which Neither Coulson nor Sherlock are Dead (and John sort of joins the Avengers)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/472183) by [DullYellowEye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DullYellowEye/pseuds/DullYellowEye). 



> OMG YOU MADE ME WRITE  
> I had a feel and felt the need to expound upon it. thanks for the inspiration. I hope you don't think I wrote a side-shot of your gorgeous fic. I've been wanting to write a Sherlock/ Avengers fic for a while now, but got caught up in reading other's works (insert you) and this is what happened. I just wanted to say thanks and if this bothers you let me know and I guess I'll take it down (pleasedon'tmakemetakeitdownI'llworshipatyourfeetifyoudon't)  
> :D
> 
> Holy crap I just wrote 2000 words :x
> 
> Also, would anyone like this better if I cut it off at John yelling 'WHAT?!' I think you would. Let me know, da?

After being punched and Dr. Watson had walked out, the team turned to Sherlock on the floor. Most of them were still frozen in shock, because most people didn’t get socked in front of them and left on the floor, apparently. Civilians.

Natasha and Clint walked over and grabbed the guy under his arms and lifted him up easily, despite him being near a foot taller than either of them. He shrugged them off immediately and turned towards the elevator doors. He stalked over to them, stopped, started again, and once again froze. His hand was flat over the buttons, not pushing them, just… holding it there.

After a few seconds frozen like that, he whirled around and glared at them. His face was red where it had been hit and only added to his crazed look as he demanded, “Show me where your tea set is.” Without even waiting for them he charged into the kitchen area and miraculously found the mugs on his first guess. He then filled the coffeepot with water and placed it on the stove. Pepper made a vague noise of protest, but Tony held her back. Sherlock didn’t seem to notice. He twirled around the kitchen like he owned it as he got the cream from the fridge, the tea from another cabinet (as though he knew it was there) and sugar cubes from the drawer they were hidden in within seconds. After he slammed everything down, he froze for another half second then twitched, and grabbed another cup for himself and let it clatter onto the counter with everything else. He went back to the cupboard and stared inside for a heartbeat or two.

“Why are you all staring at me?”

The untrained Avengers jumped, including Steve.

Sherlock spun to glare at them again. “Stop it. You’re being anomalous. I need to make tea for John, as he’ll be back in less than ten minutes. He’ll need time to go through his ‘coping skills’ which include the feeble and entirely sentimental range of denial, betrayal, indignation, sadness, anger, and finally, revelation. After which he will come back in here to engage in a shouting match with me, tea will be required to settle his nerves and then we will discuss my falsified death and sit broodily for several minutes while he decides what to say. I’ll tell him the truth of it, he’ll become indignant and earnest and all that other emotional drivel which makes up John and be awkward around me for a few weeks before things will most likely return to normal. As normal as you can get in America.”

He took a breath and kept going. “You ingrates have no notion of what constitutes an appropriate beverage, and your pastries are atrocious. There is entirely too much oil in your fast foods, which, I suppose, contributes vastly to you heading one of the most obese nations. Furthermore, you drive on the wrong side of the street and your cars consume an ungodly amount of gasoline.” It seemed he was running out of things to say about John, since he clearly didn’t want to say anything bad, but he still needed to voice a complaint about _something_.

His glare pierced them all. Bruce, Steve, Thor, Pepper, Tony, Natasha, and Clint were seared by it.

“You,” he snapped at Tony, who started and pulled himself back enough to focus on Sherlock’s eyes. “Tell your butler to fetch me some Dawson nicotine patches immediately. I’ve run out since leaving Dubai.”

“How do you know about JARVIS?” Stark said, the same time “You were in Dubai?” came from behind the team. They turned to observe John walking around to the kitchen area. His eyes were blown and his mouth agape.

“Yes.”

“That’s where you were, this whole time?”

“Don’t be silly, John. Moriarty’s contacts surpass England and Dubai, for heavens’ sake. I was also in Malaysia, Uruguay, Germany, China, Indonesia, India, Turkey, Brazil, South Africa, Egypt, and several of Japan’s islands.”

“You have been alive this _entire time_ and you didn’t _think_ to tell me?” John nearly screamed.

“Moriarty had a gun on you and had I not jumped, the instructions were to shoot you,” Sherlock said coolly.

“That doesn’t matter! You shouldn’t have done it anyway! Damned if he had a gun trained on me. You were the one on the rooftop with him doing who-knows-what and the next thing I know you’re telling me to _look at you as you jumped off a several-story building!_ ”

Several of the Avenger’s eyes widened as they watched Sherlock and John’s yelling match.

“I didn’t want you to panic after realizing there was _a tiny red dot_ on your chest,” Sherlock drawled with thinly disguised annoyance in his voice.

“Oh, and seeing you swan dive off of bloody Bart’s did me a world of wonders, then?”

“It kept you from panicking prematurely-“

“Panicking? Prematurely?” The doctor sputtered.

“Yes, prematurely, John, that’s what I said, and it ensured the sniper thought you thought me dead.”

“I DID THINK YOU DEAD!”

“AND THAT WAS THE PLAN, YOU INSUFFERABLE MAN!”

Bruce and Pepper cringed at the increase in volume.

“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME CONVINCED YOU THAT YOU HAD TO DIE AND LEAVE ME OUT OF IT, THEN? TOO STUPID FOR YOU, AM I?”

“SOMETIMES, YES! You are terrible at keeping secrets and I didn’t want to be responsible for failure in my plan due to your inability to keep your mouth firmly closed! Your life didn’t have enough incentive to keep you from telling someone, even if it were Mrs. Hudson.”

“My life? _My_ life? Curse my life, Sherlock! You think that _your_ life on the line wouldn’t be enough to keep quiet?”

“You couldn’t keep Mrs. Hudson’s birthday surprise a secret! She’s eighty seven, John. How hard can it be to keep a secret from an eighty-seven year old?!”

“She walked in on me decorating her cake! What the bloody hell was I supposed to do?”

“Lie, John. You were supposed to have lied to her!”

“She would have seen right through that. Who else would I be making a cake for on her birthday?”

“Anyone but her, John. That’s the point! For all she knew, you had another perfectly legitimate birthday to attend and had forgotten all about hers!”

“She would have known I was lying!”

“ _Eighty- seven_ , John.”

“Irrelevant, Sherlock! If she’s smart enough to hide a vital piece of evidence in her blouse while getting attacked by two thugs, I’m sure she would have seen right through my lie about decorating a cake on her bloody birthday!”

“And your terrible ability to make me late to everything would have made you an atrocious companion!” Sherlock yelled. Apparently they were done with that subject, then.

“I apologize for having normal human needs and functions like eating and going to the loo! I’ll try to do better next time.”

“Digesting makes me slow and sleeping on a case is self-interested!”

“Not when you make up for it by smoking and talking to people who aren’t there!”

“His skull is there, John, and it’s hardly my fault you disappeared to Dublin that one time-“

“I’d been talking about that for weeks!”

“-but I hardly talk to people who aren’t there! And as for your butler, where are my nicotine patches?”

It took a minute for the team to realize they were talking to him. Most specifically Stark.

“Huh, what? Oh, um… JARVIS could order some but-“

Sherlock’s head whipped around. “You mean he hasn’t already?” He raised his voice (even further) and stated, “I needed those the second I ran out and have already requested them now WHERE are they?”

Stark and the team made angry noises but John beat them to it.

“Yelling won’t get you your damn patches. JARVIS isn’t deaf!”

“Well for all I know, he is. He’s certainly old enough to be, if the mess in this house is any indication. A younger butler would have had this mess cleared long before I got here.”

“Well, he isn’t and it won’t help, so leave him alone. He isn’t going to get you any more patches, anyway.”

“All of them have run dry since I left and I need them refilled so I can think again. Some quiet would also be appreciated, John,” he said frostily.

John raised his voice in retaliation. “Well, you won’t be getting any! Hold up a minute-" He paused. "How many patches have you gone through since leaving Dubai?”

“All of them, if they’re all gone, obviously.”

“I _meant_ , how _many_ , you thick bean pole!”

“They come in packages of seven, surely it isn’t hard to figure out-“

“You took all seven? God, Sherlock! You aren’t supposed to use so many in such a short space of time! You know that!” Immediately, the smaller veteran began pulling the clothes off of Sherlock. The first to go was his jacket- “Hey!” then his scarf. “Careful, that was my _ear_.” John yanked one off of his neck and viciously pulled up his sleeves to reveal five more on his forearms. He took each one, throwing them to the floor.

“…Six. That’s only six, Sherlock. Where’s the seventh?”

“None of your-“

“It’s in your pants, isn’t it?”

“No, it isn’t! Then I’d have to feel one of my buttocks being imprinted by the insipid thing every time I wanted to sit down!”

“Then it’s on your back!”

“What? John, no, don’t even think- John! Get off of me! Leave me be! That’s my shirt!”

Sherlock managed to get out from between John and the counter where he had been pinned for only a second before John had leapt upon him in a half-hug-half-tackle that ended with him on Sherlock’s back and ripping at his shirt buttons over Sherlock’s shoulder.

The team and Pepper still didn’t move. Pepper made another noise, which prompted both of the fighting men to say, “Shut up!” The team immediately rallied to her defense, inciting both of the men to look at them all, glare, and say, “SHUT UP!”

“Alright! Alright, John, stop! I’ll take it off!” Both men stopped moving momentarily. John breathed heavily as Sherlock stood half-bent under the weight of the man.

“You promise you’ll do it?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I promise I’ll remove the bloody patch so you’ll cease your conniption and get off of me. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough. But remember, Sherlock, I can keep up with you and I used to play rugby in college, so I’m not afraid of a fair chase and tackle.”

“Fine! Now get off!”

John slipped off of him, keeping hold of his shirt, much to the other man’s obvious annoyance. Sherlock unselfconsciously rid himself of his shirt and stood half-bare in the kitchen. He glared once more at John for good measure and finally reached around to take the tan square off his back and throw it to the floor as well.

“Are you content now, John?”

“No.”

“Have some tea.”

“I will.”

“I brought the sugar and cream out for you.”

John sat at the table. “Good. You put a coffeepot on the stove again, didn't you?”

“Wasn’t sure how long I had.”

“It’s usually less than five minutes, you know.”

“Occasionally it goes to ten, but I wanted to be prepared in case it was five.”

“Two cubes, please.”

“I remember.”

“You had better.”

“How could I forget?”

“The same way you forgot to tell me you were dying.”

At that moment, Sherlock settled into the chair opposite his blogger and grabbed his hand. John looked up as Sherlock wove their hands together and clapped his other one overtop of theirs where it was bound on the table. “I did it for you, John. To keep you safe.”

Looking back into the icy blue eyes John put his hand over Sherlock’s and squeeze it. “I know. And you won’t do it again, will you?”

“I don’t think I will ever let you out of my sight again.”

“Sherlock,” John said sternly, his eyes slit with unspoken threats.

“I promise to never fake my death again and/or go hunting a maniacal genius with contacts so deep I have to die to find them. Better?” He said this last bit softly, staring into John’s soulful eyes.

“Better.”

“And I promise to never involve Molly in my future plans to kill myself again by requesting a heart-slowing drug.”

“You WHAT?!”


End file.
